


Faith for the Faithless

by unseenbox



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), S-Rank Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:06:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23067454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unseenbox/pseuds/unseenbox
Summary: There are promises to be made after the war ends. Dimitri makes one such promise to Dedue.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45





	Faith for the Faithless

There was, of course, a victory party. It started in the streets of Enbarr and spilled out all the way back to Garreg Mach. The revelers let up cheers and chanted songs, while wallflowers fretted over whether the peace would last through the night. The dead still needed burying and the living still needed mending, but the future needed hoping. For once, Dimitri allowed himself the luxury of it. Tomorrow, the work would begin, but for tonight, he could dream of what that work would bring. Perhaps there would come a day where he would never need to dirty his hands with blood ever again. One where he could save lives instead of taking them, where disputes could be solved with words instead of lances, where children could grow together instead of suffering alone.

Some of those children played on the grass below, whooping and hollering in the dark. Dimitri could not help but smile half-stunned as he watched them from the battlements. From his perch, he could pick out some of his closest allies among the endless crowd. There, under an alcove, Sylvain tried to cajole Felix into dancing with him to limited success. And near the dormitories, Ashe and Ingrid swapped stories with the knights while Annette and Mercedes passed around some of their famous patrol cookies to the growing audience. He couldn’t see Marianne anywhere, but he suspected that she’d grown weary of the crowds and retreated to the stables long ago. The Professor made their rounds, hailed by church officials and common soldiers alike. Now, where had Dedue gone?

Ah, yes, he remembered now. He stepped away to ensure no one disturbed the greenhouse in their enthusiasm. He said, “The flowers of Duscur survived here despite my absence. It would be shameful if they were trampled by uncaring individuals,” and Dimitri understood at once, urging him to guard them as best he could, he would still be here when he returned, go take care of it. In the first hazy days since Gronder Field, separating for even a few moments’ time caused him terrible pain, as if Dedue’s return was nothing more than a dream he would soon wake from. But time turned wounds to scars, and so his heart no longer bled when Dedue found himself with other things that needed tending to. Dedue deserved every happiness, beyond what he could bring alone.

And in the meantime, he could enjoy a moment or two of quiet. It often did him good, and tonight was no exception. Many people had faith in him, a faith he didn’t understand how he’d managed to earn, but that faith often came tempered with expectations. It felt nice, sometimes, to let down some of that weight, if only for a little while. Crickets and cicadas chirped from somewhere nearby, louder than the voices that carried over from the ongoing celebration. The lamps were lit but didn’t hold a candle to the brightness of the moon above. His good hand rested on top of the stone railing, balled into a loose fist, keeping himself grounded here. 

After some time, he heard measured and steady footsteps on the stone. He sighed as if it were the first day of spring after the longest winter. Dedue had returned, this he knew without needing to see for himself. He knew just from the way he walked, the clank of armor and pad of his worn, weathered boots. He turned to face him, all the same, eyes bright with admiration. There was always much to admire about him. The way the lamplight caught his teal eyes, for example, or how his hands bore the marks of his work, or how he stood steadfast when most others would flee.

Dedue took his place beside him. He looked downward with serious eyes. “How is your hand?”

He gave both an experimental squeeze. A bit sluggish, but that he could clench and unclench the injured side gave him some amount of hope. The ghosts, never shy in their commentary, flinched and screamed at the thought of admitting weakness. A tool works until it is broken and bent. It has no need for rest or comfort. Pick up the lance and carry on. Do not allow Dedue to worry for your sake.

But the ghosts held no sway over him anymore. He shook his head, dismissing them. He frowned at the hand limp at his side. “Still numb, I’m afraid.” Dimitri drew himself up, looking Dedue in the face if not the eye. “It’s much improved from yesterday, so I doubt it will hinder me for long.” In truth, he would not mind if his hands never quite worked as well again – it would be much harder to take lives with his lance if he could not hold one.

Dedue’s tense frown softened, though his hands remained immovable. He held himself as he always had, stony and still but warmed from the sun. “Do you require more medicine?”

“No, the wound’s healing well enough.” For a moment, he envisioned the throne room of the imperial palace. El. His half-sister. Her blood on the floor, blood that he’d spilt, blood that could have been avoided—could it have been avoided? Or were they fated to clash into each other, again and again, until only one stood standing? But when he opened his eyes, Dedue was there, and so he remembered the ground under his feet and the breeze in the air. He huffed, fidgeting with the strap of his gauntlet. “Physically, at least.”

That frown again. Always so concerned and caring. “I am sorry for your loss. I know it must grieve you terribly.”

“It is…” He clenched his hand as if it might help him grip the right words. “Difficult, as always. But it is not intolerable, now that we are supporting each other.” Finally, he brought himself to face Dedue again, though it was difficult. He wanted to shy away, hide under some sort of bed, but defied the thought. Still, for all his effort, his voice shook. “I must believe that with all my heart.”

Dedue steadied him with his gaze. A simple glance should not make him so still, and yet it had. “You will build a kingdom free from intolerance, and I will be there with you.” Dimitri pictured him reaching out with his arms as well as his words, and the vision overwhelmed him. He stood there gaping like a fish, mouth moving but incapable of speech. Dedue forgave him his ineptitude, as he often found the grace to do, and remained at his side.

Dimitri blinked dust out of his eye. He drew a breath, building his courage, and then bowed his head to him. “You have made so many oaths to me. I will now swear something to you, if you would permit me?”

“Your Highness?” Dedue seemed uncertain, a glance cast at the crowd below as if they held any sway in the matter.

Dimitri reached out to him, taking his hand in both of his. Gently, carefully, so that if he was going about this all wrong, he might pull away freely. Still, Dedue held steady, so Dimitri tried his best to do the same. “I will not cease in my efforts to restore Duscur and its people to a place of honor if it takes the rest of my days. I would do this, even if you were not beside me, and I would not stop, even if you turned away from me. But you must know….” He paused for breath, his hands shaking terribly, before he forced himself to carry on. “You are my truest friend. You, who have always been my shield. I will be your shield as well.”

Dedue let out a hushed breath. He shook his head in the slightest of ways, the barest brush of air. “How can I have you as a vassal when you are my king?” He seemed to smile as he said it, though, and the faint hint of a tease ran through his words.

Dimitri could not help the tense laugh that bubbled up. “I’m certain we can find a way to improvise.” He looked to the ground, unable to face Dedue with his heart on the line. “Unless you’d rather refuse. Which is—it’s perfectly understandable, and we will simply carry on as we always have, so don’t force yourself to accept for my sake. I will be fine, I assure you!”

“No.”

Dimitri deflated, shutting his eye tight. “Of course. I apologize, Dedue. I must have made you so uncomfortable.”

“You did not let me finish.”

Hope burst in his chest, but Dimitri refused to let it run rampant. He made himself look at the man beside him. Dedue was smiling, soft and faint.

“We will be sworn to each other as equals, not as vassals. That is what I wish.”

Dimitri nodded at once, his knees giving out as he collapsed against him. Dedue’s other hand spread across his back as if he alone could bear his weight. “Then you shall have it, Dedue. Everything you wish for, as I wish for it too. You, who I love.”

“You are in my heart, as well.” Dedue spoke quietly, his voice a rumble. But Dimitri heard him, in his ears and in his heart, as clear as daylight. Then, for a time, there was no more need for words, as their hands made oaths their mouths never could.


End file.
